


The Liberation of Daniel Jackson

by Sid



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, First Time, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 19:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sid/pseuds/Sid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is September, 1944.  Allied forces have retaken France and are pushing onward in their struggle to free the rest of Europe.  Trapped in The Netherlands when it was invaded in May, 1940, young Daniel Jackson has been living and working on his grandfather's farm ever since, desperately concealing his American nationality from the authorities.  One night, he finds a stranger hiding in the barn…</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Liberation of Daniel Jackson

**Author's Note:**

> I love history. I loved every minute of the research I did for this story, and I hope that shows. For those of you who like visual aids, [here](http://www.world-geographics.com/cfg/public/_lib/img/maps/europe/map_of_the_netherlands.png) is a map of The Netherlands. And [here](http://www.michaelshanks-online.com/images/highlander/hl_036.jpg) is a yummy picture of an appropriately aged Michael Shanks.
> 
>  **Written For:** antares04a/antares_dw for the Jack/Daniel ficathon 2012  
>  **Prompt:** Two Requirements: 1. NC-17 2. first time  
>  Optional Request: contemporary or historical AU  
> Restriction #1: no unhappy ending  
> Restriction #2: no het  
> 

  
**The Liberation of Daniel Jackson**

_Occupied Europe, September 1944_

The two cows, the ox, and the goat made all the usual noises when Daniel entered the stable with their buckets of water. He set the buckets down and ducked back outside to bring in the kerosene lantern. The chickens in the coop next door set up a renewed clamor. "Yes, I haven't forgotten you," he admonished them. After shutting the stable door to keep out the chilly September evening draft, he hung the lantern on its hook and set about getting the stock watered and bedded down for the night.

The goat gave him a friendly butt. "All right, Mieke," he said, grasping one of her horns and giving it a brief shake. "You…" Reflected in the goat's eye, Daniel saw something move in the shadows behind him. "You behave," he finished, heart in his throat. He turned slowly.

The barrel of a pistol glinted in the lantern light. Daniel raised his hands, pulse accelerating.

"You speak pretty good English."

Daniel caught his breath.

A man's figure appeared, still three-quarters in shadow. "It's unexpected, you know? And I don't like surprises."

Daniel listened intently, keeping a wary eye on the pistol. "American? Flier?" he hazarded after a few second's thought.

The pistol waggled and Daniel jumped a little. "Want to explain why you're talking English to a goat?"

Always wary of a trap, Daniel hesitated. The man _sounded_ American, but… "Let me see you."

The man took three long, impatient strides into the light, and it was all Daniel could do to stand his ground. "All right, you see me."

Daniel saw a tall, lean man with unruly brown hair and handsome features, probably about ten years older than himself, dressed like any common laborer. "You're not wearing a uniform." The man tugged at his collar, turning it inside out. Daniel saw the gold oak leaf of an American Army major. He shook his head. "That won't be enough to stop you getting shot as a spy."

"But enough about me." The pistol rose to point at Daniel's head.

"I'm an American, too!"

The man cocked his head. "Says the fellow in the wooden shoes, in the barn, in _The Netherlands_."

"I live here with my grandfather. He's Dutch."

"Yeah? And where were you born?"

"New York. New York City."

"New Amsterdam, huh? What part?"

"What…Washington Heights."

After a pause, the man's mouth twitched. "Sounds ritzy."

Daniel's jaw dropped. "Have you ever even _been_ to New York?"

The man cleared his throat. "No."

"Then why did you ask me that?"

"Well, if you'd said 'the Bronx', I would've known you were lying. I have a buddy from the Bronx."

Daniel put his hands down. "And my accent would've been wrong. _If_ I'd said 'the Bronx'."

"It's a flawed system," the man acknowledged, with another quirk of his thin lips.

Daniel blinked at him, registering both the inanity of the conversation and the way he wanted it to continue. He was strangely enjoying himself. Which might have something to do with how very, very good-looking this man was, once you looked past the gun. "Where are _you_ from?" he challenged.

"Chicago. Born there. Raised in Minnesota."

"Oh, that would explain it," Daniel said, smiling, pleased to understand why he'd found the man's accent hard to place at first.

The man lowered his pistol and squinted at Daniel. "Explain what?"

"Oh, I just thought at first that you might be Canadian. Uh, people in the northern border states…upper half of Minnesota, right?" he asked, pointing a finger.

The man nodded slowly.

"There's a tendency, especially in some regions and communities, to speak with certain Canadian cadences and intonation." Daniel realized he was waving his hand in the air. Embarrassed, he straightened his glasses and cleared his throat.

"What…who the fuck are you, Henry Higgins?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know, _Pygmalion_?"

Daniel looked his confusion. "I, uh, don't think I've brought any statues to life recently?"

"What?"

"What? You said 'Pygmalion.'"

"The movie? Professor Higgins, Eliza Doolittle…Leslie Howard was in it?"

"Oh! Did he really die? We heard…"

"Howard? Yeah. Shot down off the coast of Spain last year."

Daniel shook himself. How long had they been standing here talking? About hometowns, and accents and a dead movie star. It was absolutely insane! How could he possibly have lost track of time like that?

Well. The obvious answer to that question was standing right in front of him, looking just as good as any movie star. "They'll be looking for you," Daniel said anxiously. "How far away from here were _you_ shot down?"

"I wasn't. I ran out of fuel. Managed to land in more or less one piece, and then camouflaged the plane the best I could."

"But they must have seen you."

"Maybe not."

"An American plane?" Daniel knew better. "Somebody will have seen and reported it, even if no one got close enough to shoot at you."

The man tucked his pistol into his coat. "Who said it was an American plane?"

Daniel gaped.

"But that's classified. What's your name?"

"Uh, Daniel Jackson."

The man came a couple of steps nearer. "Don't the Germans think that's a funny name for a nice Dutch boy?"

"I go by Grandfather's name here."

"And nobody's ever asked to see your papers?"

He didn't sound like he believed him. Daniel licked his lips, hoping the pistol wouldn't reappear. "We're just a small farming community. Even the Nazis don't care who we are, as long as we're not Jews. As long as we give them what they want. Which is just about everything," he ended on a bitter note.

The man nodded. "Where is your grandfather? In the house?"

"No. No." Daniel frowned, suddenly feeling wary again. Grandfather had trained him too well.

"Coming back?"

The man's subtle change in body position told Daniel that he had sensed Daniel's altered mood. "Yes. Of course."

"When?"

Daniel blinked. "I have no idea." And he really didn't, because Grandfather deliberately didn't discuss his comings and goings with Daniel. "But, you're…you're safe here. With us."

"You can speak for your grandfather."

"On this, yes."

"And, yet, what aren't you telling me, Daniel? About your grandfather, and where he is tonight?"

Daniel took a deep breath and decided that some mutual trust was called for. If this man wasn't an American, Daniel would eat his hat. And if he _was_ American, the truth about Grandfather would be coming out soon anyway. "He'll be able to help you."

The man was at Daniel's side in a flash, gripping his arm, hard. "To get away?"

Daniel nodded, heart beating faster. This close, the man was even more attractive, in a rougher sort of way, with a day's growth of beard stubbled over his firm jawline, and a faint whiff of tobacco clinging to him. The strength of his hold sent a shiver down Daniel's spine.

"He's with the Resistance?"

"I didn't say that."

The man let go of him. The corners of his thin mouth turned up. "You very carefully didn't say that. All right. Now we're getting somewhere."

His eyes, now lit with a spark of hope, were a dark brown. Daniel was so used to blue and gray eyes now, after these last five long years in the Netherlands, that dark brown seemed exotic. The eyes narrowed, and Daniel realized he'd been caught staring. He looked away hastily, rubbing his arm, but the man's voice caused him to turn back.

"You can call me Jack."

"Jack." He was holding out his hand. It was warmer than Daniel's own, less callused. Daniel shook it, swallowing. "You…you might as well come in the house, I guess."

"I wouldn't mind getting away from this lovely smell of manure."

Daniel snorted, feeling the tension of the last few seconds breaking. "Unless you're more fond of chicken shit, you'll probably want to wait in the fresh air while I get them taken care of for the night."

Jack reached into his pocket and waved a packet of cigarettes with a smirk.

Daniel stacked the empty water buckets by the stable door and took the lantern off its hook, saying, "I guess you're all set, then."

~~~~

"Uh, Daniel?"

"Hmm?" Daniel turned from checking the kettle which he'd put on the stove while Jack had done a quick, precautionary search of the house.

Jack put the lantern down on the table Daniel had just scrubbed and scrunched up his nose. "You don't happen to have any invisible livestock actually living here in the house, do you?"

Daniel laughed. "No, it only smells that way. It's the way these old farms are built. Having the stable right next door helps heat the house. The manure and soiled straw is composted in a pit, and it gives off radiant heat."

"And a charming aroma."

"You get used to it."

Jack rubbed his chin. "Hopefully I won't be here that long."

Daniel turned to get cups from the cupboard, and to conceal his face. Of course Jack wouldn't be here long. Grandfather and his friends would waft him away in the dead of night, over the border to Belgium, most likely, and as soon as possible. Daniel had been temporarily ignoring that truth.

He was so lonely. Talking with Jack was proving to be such a pleasure, and looking at him was a pleasure, too. Hiding in plain sight from the Nazis had become a way of life, but it was a damned stressful one. Not only American, but a homosexual to boot. Daniel didn't like to think what they would ever do to him if they discovered those facts.

"Not that I'm not enjoying the company."

Daniel turned his head, blinking. Jack had a friendly, placating smile on his face. And Daniel apparently hadn't hidden his own face fast enough. "Me, too. It's good to have someone to speak English with."

"Besides the goat?"

Daniel laughed. "Mieke never answers me."

Jack grinned. "I'm glad to hear that."

Daniel set the cups down on the kitchen table, and nodded for Jack to take a seat. "And I'm glad you're enjoying the company, because the hospitality isn't worth very much, I'm afraid. I can offer you some carrot and onion soup that's mostly water." He turned down the wick on the lantern and placed it on its hook by the door, letting the kerosene lamp above the table resume its job of faintly lighting the room.

"I had a big breakfast. Keep it."

"Well, you have to have something." Daniel pulled out two knives and a plate and put the heel of a bread loaf on it. The kettle signaled that it was ready, so he poured the steaming water into the teapot, over the dried yarrow leaves and flowers he'd placed there earlier, and covered it.

Jack sniffed the air. "What did you say that was?"

"Yarrow tea. It's not bad. It's no substitute for coffee, though." He stared at Jack. "I suppose you had coffee with your big breakfast."

Jack shrugged one shoulder apologetically.

"I envy your taste buds," Daniel sighed. He opened the low, narrow door to the tiny cellar and, after lighting the stub of candle kept on the sill above it in the lamp's flame, climbed cautiously down the steep, solid stairs. He returned with a cloth-covered saucer. After blowing out the candle and replacing it, he put the saucer on the table in front of Jack and whipped the cloth off. "Courtesy of Mieke."

"I don't think I've ever had goat cheese," Jack said, turning the saucer and eyeing its contents doubtfully.

"You haven't had yarrow tea, either," Daniel said, straining the contents of the teapot into a second pot which had been keeping warm on the back of the stove. "It's pretty exciting hereabouts, hey?" He carried the pot to the table and sat down.

"Toss in 'on the run for my life', and I have to rank tonight right up there when it comes to exciting times I have had."

Daniel grinned, and felt his face beginning to flush. He busied himself with cutting the bread into wafer thin slices and ignoring Jack's long-fingered hands resting on the table. But why ignore them? "Will you spread the cheese while I pour our tea?"

There was a short pause while Jack looked up from where he'd been watching Daniel's hands at work. Their eyes met. "Sure."

Something had definitely just happened. Hadn't it? Daniel poured the tea ridiculously slowly and watched Jack efficiently applying a thin coating of cheese to the bread slices.

Jack waved the knife at the remaining cheese. It was hard to tell in the glow of the lamp, but Daniel thought there might be spots of color high on his cheekbones. "More?"

Daniel reached out to take the knife from him. "Just right. We try to make things stretch." Their hands brushed. Jack's skin was warm against his.

"You're really thin," Jack said softly.

"They're starving us." Daniel set down the knife carefully and picked up a slice of bread. He bit into it. Jack was watching him chew. "Please," Daniel said, gesturing at the plate.

"I hate to take food out of your mouth."

"You're going to have to get used to it. You've got a long road ahead of you and you need to eat. So people are going to have to feed you."

Jack nodded. "Yeah." He picked up a slice of bread and held it.

"I figure you'll pay us all back when you liberate us." Daniel smiled tightly. "So I don't begrudge you my bread, and Mieke doesn't begrudge you her cheese. We're glad…" He swallowed, unable to finish the sentence.

They just looked at each other for a few seconds. Then Jack raised his brows. "So. Goat cheese, eh?" He lifted the bread to his nose and sniffed it. "Smells okay." He nibbled a corner of the bread. "Tangy." He took a larger bite. "Yeah. Not bad."

"I'll give Mieke your compliments," Daniel said, relieved that Jack had managed to pass off the moment of raw emotion.

"She bake the bread, too?"

Daniel made a face. "The bread is terrible, but it is what it is. Fortunately Mieke's milk doesn't care that there's an occupation force siphoning everything that isn't nailed down into Germany."

Jack finished his slice and reached for another. "Pretty sure they're hungry in the Fatherland. We've been trying to make sure of that."

Daniel scratched the back of his head. "I'd say, 'Good', except I know it means that the Dutch men who were conscripted for labor in German factories probably have it even worse than we do here."

"I'm afraid so. Not much that can be done about that, except to try to end things as soon as possible."

Daniel leaned forward. "Things are headed in that direction, aren't they?"

Jack spread a hand. "I don't have all the answers, Daniel. And if I did, I couldn't tell you."

Daniel smiled unwillingly. "We hear things. From people who live nearer the German border, and hear the Allied bombers every day and every night. And there are a lot fewer Germans hereabouts than there used to be. They're letting the local N.S.B. vermin handle things for them more and more."

"They need all their manpower. We're hitting them from all sides." Jack chewed slowly for a second. "Whereabouts are we?"

"Oh! This is southern Limburg province."

Jack gestured downward with his thumb. "Yeah, the part that sticks down between Belgium and Germany, right? That's where I thought I was, but I was a little too busy trying to fly the plane to be certain. So we're south of the Meuse?"

"The Meuse? Is…west of here, actually. I'm afraid I don't have a map to show you."

Jack shook his head. "I've studied the maps. I'm just getting my bearings straight. So we're roughly the same distance from Belgium as from Germany?"

Daniel closed his eyes and pictured a map. "I think a little closer to Belgium, but roughly, yes."

Jack eyed him for a few seconds, then said with elaborate casualness, "Close to Belgium is a good spot to be these days."

Daniel clenched his fists, opened his mouth, and then jerked in surprise as the telephone on the wall next to the door rang.

Jack sat up straight and Daniel saw him reflexively feel for his pistol.

Daniel crossed the room and picked up the receiver. He held it to his ear and leaned forward to speak into the mouthpiece. " _Met_ Daniel." It was his grandfather, and what he had to say left Daniel grinning from ear-to-ear. He hung up and went back to the table.

"Good news?"

"Good news for the family, at least. It means a slight delay for you, I'm afraid."

"Why, what's going on?"

"That was Grandfather, and he won't be coming home tonight. My cousin's wife is having a baby!"

Jack smiled. "Life does go on, doesn't it? Congratulations to the happy parents."

Daniel sobered. "Pieter's in Germany. That's mostly why Grandfather is spending the night there. Childbirth is more traditionally woman's work, but he wants to sort of stand in for his nephew. Help out where he can."

"Sure," Jack said.

"So he won't be back until sometime tomorrow, and I really can't do anything to help you. He keeps me separated from all of that." Daniel took a sip of his tea. "It's to protect them more than me. I'm like a ticking bomb that never goes off."

Jack nodded and picked up his teacup. "This yarrow stuff doesn't explode, does it?"

"Be brave," Daniel counseled.

Jack took a sip. He looked at Daniel.

Daniel burst into laughter.

"No fooling, you drink this stuff all the time?"

"It's hot. It's good for you."

Jack took another sip and made a face. "I guess I'm not really into tea."

"I'll get you some water." Daniel started to push back from the table. Jack put a hand on his arm.

"It's hot. That's about all I could want from it. It's okay."

"All right." Daniel reached for the last piece of bread, then hesitated. "Shall we split this?"

"I'm good," Jack answered. "Got my tea." He raised his cup as if in a toast.

Daniel took a bite.

"I've been wondering," Jack said. "Your cousin and all. Why haven't you been conscripted? Is it because you work on a farm?"

"That's part of it. I think it was a near thing. I was ordered to report, and I had to fill out paperwork. Grandfather's doctor signed a document saying that I had allergies and asthma, and poor eyesight. Which was all true, but a lot more minor than he made them out to be. Still, I was assigned a date, or actually a week where I was told that I would be leaving. But someone new, a different German bureaucrat, took over in our district and I received a letter saying that my situation was being reevaluated. In the end I was told to stay here."

"That must have been a relief. You must have had identity papers that passed muster, too."

Daniel raised his eyebrows. "Grandfather."

"Handy man to know."

Daniel grinned. "You'll find out tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to it." Jack swallowed the rest of his tea and covered a yawn as he put the cup down.

Daniel chewed another bite of bread. "You might as well sleep in Grandfather's bed tonight, since he won't be home until sometime in the morning."

Jack looked uncertain. "He won't mind that?"

Daniel reconsidered. "I don't think so. But maybe it would be better if you slept in my bed."

Jack raised an eyebrow and looked down at the table, one corner of his mouth curling up.

"And I…slept in his." Daniel felt his face burning.

"Oh, I knew what you meant." Jack nudged him.

Daniel stood up abruptly. "We don't have a lot of bed linens, but I can get you a clean pillowcase, anyway. I'll go do that now…"

Jack rose and stopped Daniel with a hand on his shoulder.

Daniel just stood there. He didn't know what to do. He didn't dare do anything.

"I knew what you meant, because I figured I couldn't possibly be that lucky."

An incoherent sound left Daniel's mouth.

"Could I be that lucky, Daniel?" Jack moved, put a hand on Daniel's other shoulder, and turned him.

Daniel searched his eyes, his face. He saw nervousness and hope and what looked like sincerity. "You…" he swallowed and tried again. "You walked away from a forced landing."

A spark lit Jack's eyes. His nostrils flared. "Could I be that lucky twice in one day?"

"No, I…I'm the lucky…" Daniel leaned forward desperately and found Jack's mouth with his own. He was shaking with need and excitement. He'd been alone so long.

Jack met him, solid and sure, sliding an arm around his shoulders and a hand down his back. Daniel adjusted his stance and let Jack pull him closer. Groin to groin, hardness pressing against hardness, growing. Their tongues touched, glided against each other. Daniel slid a hand between their bodies and cupped Jack's cock through his trousers. Jack made a sound into Daniel's mouth. Then he made another sound and pulled back.

"What?"

Jack huffed a laugh. "Just…" He kissed Daniel quickly. "Can we move this into the bedroom? No kidding, my legs are tired from all the walking I did today."

Daniel laughed, too. "Sure." He released Jack and stepped over to get his bedroom candle from the shelf. He lit it at the lamp with trembling hands. "Do you need to use the outhouse first?"

"Good idea."

"Take the candle." Daniel kissed him and handed him the candle.

Jack opened the door and looked around outside before stepping through, pulling the door shut behind him.

Daniel rushed to the sink pump and did a quick wash up under his clothing. He was filling a basin with water when Jack returned. "Do you want to wash up? He offered Jack a clean towel from the drawer, and tossed the one he'd used across his shoulder. Jack started removing his coat. Daniel turned down the wick on the lamp and carried their dishes to the sink. "I'll take your coat," he said, picking it up from the back of the chair. "You bring the towel and the candle."

Jack was unbuttoning his shirt. His chest was lightly matted with dark curls. "Okay."

Daniel swallowed as he reached to pick up the basin of water. "Don't be too long."

Jack's eyes and teeth glinted in the candlelight. "If you don't go now, I might beat you there."

Daniel backed away into the darkness, pulse racing. "I'm going…" He normally didn't need a candle to walk down the hallway that he knew so well, but tonight he bounced a shoulder off the doorframe as he entered his room, making the water in the basin slosh over his hands. He set the basin down and put his towel behind it after drying his hands, laid Jack's coat in the corner, kicked his shoes under the bed, then sat down to remove his socks. His mind was racing. He'd come on too strong, hadn't he? Jack would have no idea…

He stood and drew back the bedcovers. When had he washed his sheets last? He began pulling his sweater off. Three weeks? That wasn't so bad. Jack wouldn't care anyway. He smiled and breathed hard. Jack wanted him. And he wanted Jack, a lot more than any pimple-faced boy he'd fumbled around with in the past just because he wanted _sex_. Jack was all man, and just what Daniel had wanted ever since he knew there was something to want.

Candlelight glowed in the hall. Jack came into the room, shirt and towel over his shoulder, boots untied, hair ruffled. Just like something out of a dream, but real. _Here_.

"I'd better tell you," Daniel said, rapid-fire, his sweater dropping from suddenly nerveless fingers. "I don't have a lot of experience."

Jack set the candle down on the bed table and draped his towel over the headboard. "You're young." He tossed his shirt in the corner on top of his coat, sat down and pulled off his boots and socks.

Daniel exhaled and paced a few steps away. "I've only ever used hands. And kissed."

Jack stood and undid his trousers. "I could tell you'd done some kissing." He was smiling.

Daniel licked his lips and automatically reached for the buttons on his own trousers. "But I want…"

"It all?"

"Whatever you want."

Jack kicked off his trousers and slid his boxers down. His cock jutted free. "I want to fuck you, if you'll let me. I've wanted that since I followed you out of the barn."

Daniel's trousers dropped from his hands and fell to his knees. He was frozen. He forced his tongue to speak. "Yes."

Jack walked over to him, naked. Beautiful. "You want that?"

Daniel nodded jerkily. He'd always wanted that.

"Then get the rest of those clothes off." Jack bent and impatiently tugged Daniel's worn-thin boxers down, pulling them and his trousers to his ankles. Daniel balanced himself on Jack's shoulders and let Jack pull them over his feet. Jack rose and took Daniel in his arms, pressing their naked flesh together. "Yeah. That's so much better." There was a catch in his voice.

Daniel roamed over Jack's back with his hands, feeling each bone and muscle and sinew, while Jack's hands did the same, one dipping to clutch Daniel's butt. Touching and being touched, that was what he'd been missing for so long. But Jack was offering more. Everything. "I want you inside me," he said into Jack's ear. Jack shuddered against him. "I'm dying for you to be inside me."

"We can't have that," Jack murmured, dipping a finger between Daniel's cheeks. "Ah, hell. Have we got anything slippery?" He pulled his hand away. "I don't want to hurt you. That's no way to do your first time."

Daniel grunted. "Here. Over here." He tugged Jack toward the bed, and picked up the round tin on the table. "It's the stuff we use on the teats of the goat and cows to keep them supple. We use it ourselves for chapped skin."

Jack took the lid off the tin and made a face.

"Yeah, it's a little medicine-y."

Jack rubbed some between his fingers. "That'll work. But is it safe?"

Daniel coughed. "In my experience, yes."

"Ah." Jack said with a chuckle. "Good to know." He pushed Daniel back onto the bed and followed him. "You got a way in mind that we should do this?"

Memories of pictures he'd seen, of fantasies he'd imagined, flooded Daniel's mind. He couldn't bring himself to say it. He turned and got up on his knees and gripped the headboard.

He heard Jack gulp. "Yeah, nice. Nice. Look at that ass." Daniel thought the hand that touched him then was shaking. The mattress sank as Jack moved behind Daniel. There was a pause, and Daniel held his breath and listened to the sounds of Jack preparing himself. "Just my finger." Warm and greasy, slicking Daniel's hole and pressing in slowly.

Daniel cried out and gripped the headboard harder, pushing back onto Jack's finger.

"It's a hungry one. Don't worry, I'll feed it." Jack worked his finger in and out, twisting and crooking it.

"Hurry," Daniel moaned.

"No." Jack put his free hand on the small of Daniel's back. "You only think you're ready."

Daniel dropped his head. "I've been ready for years."

"I know," Jack said soothingly. "Just another minute. Gotta make this good for you."

Another minute and another finger, without warning. Daniel cried out again.

"Okay?"

"God, yes!"

Jack pulled his fingers free and wiped them on the towel. One hand gripped Daniel's hip. Jack stroked it with his thumb, whispering "Nothing but skin and bone." His grip tightened and the mattress shifted as he moved into place.

And then Jack's cock was seeking entrance, rubbing and pushing and sliding, then pressing. Going up into him. Where only Daniel's fingers, and now Jack's had been before. It hurt. He didn't cry out, but he must have tensed. Jack ran a hand up his spine and said hoarsely, "You'll be all right in a minute. It'll be good, honest." He withdrew an inch and pushed back in, sinking deeper.

This was _real_. After years of thinking about this, it was happening. Jack was fucking him, and the pain was fading, and he was going deeper than fingers could reach…and then he hit a spot that Daniel had only read about, and Daniel convulsed around him.

"You like that? Is that good? You want more of that?" Jack hit his prostate again with each utterance. Daniel's legs began to shake. "You have no idea how good you feel to me, Daniel. So fucking tight."

Daniel wanted to say something in turn. _So big, so hard, so perfect_. He couldn't form the words. His hips were rocking back, meeting Jack's pushes. He was stretched, filled, filled with sensation. He wanted to remember this, every moment, every sound and smell, and the feel of Jack's skin, warm against his thighs and butt. He wanted this to last forever, but his body had its own agenda, and his balls were tightening…

Jack came. He gasped and shook, and Daniel could feel him pulsing deep inside him, although he didn't feel him ejaculating. Apparently the pornography he'd read had gotten that part wrong. There was a high-pitched whining noise. It was coming from him. Daniel closed his eyes. The impulse to come was still strong, still building, but Jack had stopped moving. Should he reach for himself and jerk off?

Jack was draped across his back, hot and sweaty, making contented noises. It was wonderful, but Daniel's itch was overpowering. "Jack?"

Jack's hand slid across his abdomen, fumbled. "I've gotcha. Don't move." But then his hand went away.

"No," Daniel complained.

"Don't you move." Jack pulled his softening cock free, leaving Daniel empty. The mattress tossed Daniel like he was a boat in a choppy sea. And then Jack was lying face up beneath him, shoulders between his thighs and reaching for his cock, tugging. "Give me that gorgeous thing. Let me taste you."

Daniel spread his legs farther and sank down, down into Jack's warm mouth. He was afraid to start fucking, with Jack in that position. He just crouched there for a minute, Jack sucking him and swirling his tongue around him. Daniel's hands dropped from the headboard to the mattress. One of Jack's hands rubbed behind his balls, then slid slowly up to his hole, pressing and releasing, pressing, releasing, gliding in…

Fireworks went off behind Daniel's eyelids as he came. Jack's hand wrapped around the base of his cock, holding it far enough away to be able to swallow without choking. Daniel's guttural noises filled the room, as they'd done many times before. But this time it wasn't his own finger, his imagination and his fist bringing him off. Jack's suctioning mouth was draining his balls, Jack's finger was moving slowly, gently where his cock had been.

And then Jack's hands were moving him, lowering him tenderly onto his side, washing him with a towel and water from the basin. Washing himself. Blowing out the candle. Pulling up the bedcovers. Holding and caressing him.

Jack kissed him. Murmured drowsily, "Thank you. That was fantastic."

Daniel had no words. By the time he regained the ability to speak, Jack was sound asleep.

Daniel woke sometime later, and for a second or two felt disoriented, even though he was in his own bed. But the answer to his confusion was sitting on the edge of the bed, faintly illuminated by moonlight, naked except for Daniel's sweater which he'd pulled on, smoking a cigarette and staring out the window.

"Didn't mean to wake you."

"I don't think you did." Daniel scratched his arm and shifted his pillow so that he could sit up a little. "Can't you sleep?"

Jack chuckled. "It was sure 'lights out' there for a while." He twisted his head to grin at Daniel. "You're something else."

"That's a good thing, right?" The room was definitely chilly, but Daniel felt suddenly warmer.

"You betcha." Jack ground out the butt of his cigarette on the saucer that held the candle, then reached for Daniel's hand.

"You're cold," Daniel said softly.

Jack gave his hand a squeeze. "Guess you'll have to warm me up again, when I crawl back in."

Daniel's cock gave a twitch and his hole clenched. He raised a knee and bit his lip. "So crawl back in."

"In a minute." Jack stood and walked to the window, staring silently out.

Daniel slid back down into the bed, doing his own staring at Jack's shadowy rear end. "I've lain here and looked out that window a thousand times, but I've never had a view to match this one."

Jack snorted. He bent and rested his forehead against the glass. "There are things happening out there, Daniel."

"Where?" Daniel breathed, rising up onto his elbow.

Jack turned, stepped toward him, crouched beside the bed. "I can't tell you." He caressed Daniel's face.

"Who _are_ you?"

A minute shake of the head. "Just a flyboy."

"Like I'm just a Dutch farmer."

"Pretty much, yeah." Jack sounded amused. "What _is_ your story, anyway?"

Daniel licked his lips. "Come to bed and I'll tell you all my secrets."

"Deal." Jack pulled the sweater off over his head and slid in underneath the covers. "Say, warm up my feet for me while you're confessing, will ya?"

"Ah! Get those things off me!" Daniel kicked vigorously.

After a short tussle that left them both breathing harder, Jack's feet were the last thing on Daniel's mind. There was a comfortably cool hand holding his growing cock and a warm voice in his ear. "Spill. What's the Daniel Jackson story?"

"From birth?"

"Born in Washington Heights. Skip to the next interesting part."

Daniel had been groping Jack's ass, but now he slid his hand up his back. It seemed more appropriate. "I suppose that would be my parents dying."

Jack made a soft noise with his tongue. "How old were you?"

"Eight."

Jack made another soft noise. "Is that when you came here?"

"Oh, no. No, I only ever came here for summer vacations. I lived with a great-aunt on my father's side for years after that. Aunt Martha. She was nice, but she really didn't know what to do with me."

"I'll bet you were a real handful." Jack squeezed the handful he presently had.

Daniel slid his hand back down to Jack's butt and reciprocated. "Oh, yes, constantly demanding more books. I was a terror."

"You're a bookworm?" Jack nuzzled his neck.

Daniel hesitated. "A scholar," he finally answered. "Even then." He cleared his throat.

Jack raised his head and tried to examine Daniel's face in the darkness.

"That's how I ended up here. I was spending my sophomore year abroad, at the university in Utrecht."

"Studying what?"

"Anthropology and linguistics."

"Ah! You _are_ Henry Higgins."

Henry Higgins, the stranger in the barn had called him. Not that long ago. And not such a stranger now. Daniel felt dizzy when he thought of all that had happened since then, was still happening. "I was studying for final exams when the Germans came."

"No time to get out?"

"I don't know. Maybe if I'd tried to get to a port right away. I don't really know what the roads and trains were like those first days, or if I could've gotten passage on a ship. If I could've made it to the American embassy…"

Jack kissed his shoulder and started stroking his cock.

Daniel gasped. He took a few breaths. "Anyway, it was all over so fast. They came on Friday and by Monday…the surrender was on Tuesday." He put a hand on Jack's wrist. "That feels good."

"Good."

"So I came here and became a farmer. People here knew me, I'd been visiting for years." Daniel spread his thighs a little more. "I speak the language like a native. Grandfather somehow got papers for me."

Jack moved to climb on top of him. "Nobody ever ratted you out. That's impressive."

"They're good people." Daniel wrapped his arms around Jack.

"They're strong," Jack corrected. "Even the best people will sometimes do the wrong thing under duress or temptation."

"Temptation." Daniel tasted the word on his lips. "Doesn't sound like such a bad thing at the moment."

"Give in," Jack urged, with a wicked smile that gleamed in the dimness.

Daniel laughed. "Make me."

"Geez, you really are just a kid. What are you, 24? 25? You don't look it. I guess maybe if you had some more meat on your bones." Jack ran a hand over Daniel's flank.

"I'm 22."

Jack paused, obviously doing the arithmetic. "Boy genius?"

"I…I wouldn't say that. I just learn things quickly."

"You do," Jack said teasingly. "I've noticed."

Daniel felt his face flame. "I'm ready for my next lesson."

"I got that," Jack said, rubbing his erection against Daniel's. "Where's the goop?"

Daniel stretched towards the table, but couldn't reach.

"I got it."

Daniel could hardly breathe with Jack flat on top of him. He loved it. And he was going to get fucked again. He loved the thought of that, too.

Jack rose onto his knees and pushed at Daniel's cock until it lay in an arch against his stomach. "Hang onto that, will ya?"

Daniel pressed a hand against the underside of his cock. It throbbed eagerly.

Jack ran his fingertips through the tin of salve, then rubbed his fingers against his palm, coating his entire hand. He put his hand against Daniel's balls and rocked it back and forth, then slid it around.

Daniel made incoherent sounds.

Jack stroked up Daniel's cock, pushing his hand out of the way. Then he reared up and coated the underside of his own cock. "You know what, Daniel?"

"What?"

"I'm really glad I picked your barn." Jack lowered himself and aligned their cocks. "I'm not so sorry that I ran out of fuel, either. Not any more." He pushed.

Friction and pressure, and Jack's eyes to look into. Heat building between their bodies, between _them_. "Maybe it was fate," Daniel managed to say.

Jack arched forward to kiss him. "I'll buy that. I'll buy whatever you're selling."

Daniel wished he could see Jack better, but on the other hand there was another layer of intimacy added with the absence of candlelight. It was like he could _feel_ what Jack was thinking. Or hear it in his voice, quiet, warm and honest. Open. With all the secrets Jack was keeping, right at this moment he was sharing what he was feeling.

Daniel wanted to respond, to reciprocate. Maybe the words would come. Maybe he simply couldn't think straight with Jack's body driving into his, weighing him down and lifting him up at one and the same time. Maybe his hands could speak for him. He lifted them from Jack's shoulders and cupped his face.

Jack's smooth thrusts stuttered for a second.

Daniel traced the outline of Jack's ear with one hand, then stroked his hair. Cupped his face again.

Jack turned his head, kissed Daniel's palm. Sighed. Groaned. Thrust harder and faster, rising up from his elbows onto his hands.

Daniel gripped Jack's biceps, felt the muscles moving beneath the warm skin. "Don't ever stop." He raised his knees, setting his feet flat on the bed, and rocked up.

Jack said something in a strangled voice that Daniel couldn't understand, and then he was flat on Daniel, just raised enough to fit his right hand between their slick, sticky bellies, jerking both of their cocks. Daniel reached as far down Jack's left side as he could, grabbed a handful of Jack's butt, and began to almost wordlessly chant Jack's name.

When he came, he stifled his open-mouthed cries against Jack's shoulder, sinking his teeth into the flesh.

Jack shuddered, started to say Daniel's name, and came with a startled exclamation that gave way to a succession of throaty growls.

They lay there, wrapped together, motionless and silent except for their breathing. Daniel could feel Jack's heartbeat against his chest. He tried to smile, but failed to find the energy. He began to drift…

Jack started to roll away. Daniel held on. "We'll be glued together," Jack chuckled.

Daniel let him go. "There's another towel behind the basin."

"The basin's on your side of the bed."

Yes, it was. Daniel's lethargy evaporated. He was going to get to wash Jack. Which he proceeded to do in a much more lingering fashion than was probably called for.

Jack wasn't complaining. He wasn't asleep, either. His fingertips lightly clasped Daniel's wrist the whole time.

~~~~

Daniel, from long force of habit, woke as dawn was breaking, tired but clear-headed. Jack stirred and opened his eyes when he sat up. "Hi," Daniel said softly.

"Hello, yourself." Jack touched him lazily. "Is this when farmers get up?"

"Pretty much. Listen, if you want to use the outhouse you should go pretty soon. After sunrise people are going to start showing up to buy milk and eggs. You probably should hide out right here."

Jack stretched. "Can't think of a nicer spot." He clapped a hand against Daniel's shoulder. "Lots of good memories here."

Daniel's smile was so wide it almost hurt. The thought that there wouldn't be any new memories hurt, too. "I'll grab a few eggs for us to share. Fry them up with a potato."

"My mouth is watering."

Daniel thought about that mouth on his cock and shivered.

Jack stretched again, his eyes narrow slits, his smile complacent.

~~~~

Daniel wondered if he looked any different. None of his customers seemed to notice anything, but then they all had their own concerns to occupy them. Hopefully Grandfather wouldn't find him too changed. He sometimes wondered what Grandfather really thought about him. It was obviously safer for Daniel to stay isolated, even though there were plenty of single girls in the area. Maybe he should have expressed regret about that. Maybe if he was straight he would have taken a chance and sought out some companionship anyway. Maybe his inaction proved he wasn't interested. Maybe. It didn't matter now.

He'd never been happy before about being different. It was a new world for him today.

~~~~

Grandfather arrived home on his bicycle at a quarter past nine.

By a quarter past nine that night, Jack was long gone.

The two men had spoken together without Daniel present. He knew Grandfather would never tell him anything about what had been said. He only had a few minutes alone in the house with Jack before Grandfather spirited him away.

Jack had held his hand. "There's so much I can't tell you. I really wish I could. Frankly, I've said too much already."

"I'll never repeat a word of it."

"Jesus, I hope it never reaches a point where you have to hold to that. But because something _might_ happen, I have to be careful to protect us both."

"I understand." He didn't, of course. But if his ignorance would protect Jack, that was what mattered. He only regretted that he couldn't even be told Jack's last name, because it was safer not to know it. He had a memory now he would always treasure, but it would always be unsatisfactorily incomplete.

"Listen, Daniel. There's two scenarios here. One is where I hide out here and wait around to be liberated. The other is where I do my duty and try to get back in the fight."

Daniel shook his head, confused. "You don't really have a choice."

"I _almost_ do. That makes this harder. But I've got to go." Jack squeezed his hand hard.

Then Daniel thought he understood. Liberation must be very close, but just not close enough. He inhaled. "Don't get killed. Just…"

"There's a lot of men out there getting killed. I'm no different than they are."

A thought pierced Daniel. "I'll never know."

"No, listen. Listen. I told your grandfather, I'll send a message if I can. Get word to you both that I made it. And, Daniel. Daniel. After the war. Shh. Listen."

Tears were streaming down Daniel's face.

"What are you planning to do? Are you going to stay here?"

"No! God, no. Nothing's going to keep me here. The…the local men who were taken away will be coming home, or at least some of them will, and Grandfather will be able to get all the laborers he needs. I'm going back to America as fast as I can." Daniel didn't care that his voice wobbled.

"To your aunt?"

"Probably, for a while. Not to stay. I…I want to get back to my studies." He wiped tears from his cheeks.

"Tell me her name and address. I'll remember them, and I'll get in touch with you through her."

Daniel had blinked at him.

"You want me to, don't you?"

"Yes!" Daniel flung himself into Jack's arms.

After Jack memorized the address, they'd shared one last kiss.

Then he was gone, and Daniel was alone.

~~~~

Ten days after Jack's departure, American troop trucks and jeeps came rolling down the lane an hour after sunrise, heading north-east. Daniel stood at the gate and watched them with hungry eyes, searching each face he could see as it passed. Grandfather stood beside him, waving his hat, pink and shaking with excitement.

A dozen or so local youth were weaving in and out of the convoy on bicycles, sometimes latching on and letting themselves be pulled along while they chattered away, shouting out whatever words of English they knew. Daniel wondered how they had the energy.

Then he wondered when he had gotten old.

Late in the afternoon, another rumble of motors and machines insinuated itself upon the air. _Retreat_ , Daniel immediately thought, heart sinking. No. No, they hadn't heard any gunfire, no sounds of battle. And the sounds were coming from the same direction as that morning, he was nearly sure of it. Grandfather was already walking toward the gate, limping a little. The arthritis in his hip must be flaring up. Daniel stopped and turned back to the house.

When he joined Grandfather at the edge of the lane a few minutes later, he was carrying a kitchen chair and a rug. It had been cool and gloomy all day, and the sun would be going down soon. While Grandfather got himself situated, Daniel climbed up on the fence and peered down the lane. Just as something came into sight, the sun's rays poked out below the gray layer of cloud cover, effectively blinding him. He quickly shielded his eyes, blinking and looking down for a few seconds.

When he looked back up he could see, barely, but enough. He jumped down off the fence. "It's tanks!"

"Americans?"

"I can't tell."

It turned out they weren't American, after all. The tanks, and the jeeps interspersed among them all had the white star painted on them that he'd seen that morning, but the silhouette of the helmets the soldiers wore was different. It was Grandfather who spotted the maple leaf emblems in the jeep windows.

Canadians. Daniel felt let down. Which was incredibly stupid. Grandfather was waving his hat just as happily as he had that morning, and rightly so. Sure, Daniel had been glad to see people from back home…

Okay, honestly he'd felt let down that morning, too. Because there was only one American face he'd wanted to see. Which was likewise incredibly stupid. Jack was Air Corps, wasn't he? He'd be in the sky, not on the ground.

Okay, _maybe_ Jack was Air Corps. And maybe he was something a lot more classified than that. Whatever he was, Daniel just hoped that he was out there somewhere, alive. That was all that mattered. And maybe soon he'd be able to send word like he'd promised. Lines of communication would be established now, wouldn't they? The outside world would once again become a real place instead of a vanishing memory.

Daniel smiled and straightened his shoulders.

An approaching tank veered onto the verge of the road and rumbled to a halt. A head popped out of the turret, a black shadow against the sinking sun. Daniel blinked. That helmet didn't look Canadian.

The voice wasn't quite Canadian, either. "Hello. You folks been liberated yet?"

Daniel launched himself at the tank, scrambling for handholds and footholds, desperately climbing…

Jack's strong hands pulled him up the last few feet, and Jack's strong arms held him and rocked him as Daniel released the tension of more than four years, and the anxiety of ten long days and even longer nights, and sobbed out his complete and perfect joy.


End file.
